You only love me when you lose a few brain cells.
You lips search for mine when that crisp ale finds yours
You speak of love and the future
But neglect me once your vision clears
Abandoned, I look for excuses.
Alone yet again I curse love, I curse the gods old and new.
I hate your voice
I hate your scent
I hate your hair and how perfectly it falls.
I hate I hate I hate
I hate that you only love me when you’re drunk
I hate that I fall for it every time
One day I’ll stop crying
And you’ll come around
With your beer-soaked brain preaching your false gospel of love
And I’ll laugh.
These spirits won’t lead my love deprived heart off that cliff anymore
Until then, drink up
I’ll have whatever you’re having.
What do you do when your love fades?
When there’s a greasy film over thing and everyone?
The mirror’s face is not my own. How long have I had the scars? These creases creaking around my lids?
My mouth is empty and without my teeth, my tongues lolls out.
Truth streams forth.
Flecks of saliva permeate the atmosphere. All greasy with truth unwanted.
I loved myself in my youth.
Not because it was simple but because I was too polite to cause a scene.
I was all peppermint and rose quartz.
Now the truth is a darling friend that you can’t wait to evict after 2 am.
Now I am obsidian. Only able to cut you with the truth.
No one really wants the truth .
Just greasy and heavy and lonely.
Self love fades and is replaced by a withered face, savage tongue.
Truth has now replaced love.
Love is silly anyway, replaced by the sticky truth that clings to air. Humid, sticky air.
When self love fades, you won’t notice til you speak and smell the acrid, greasiness of truth stings your eyes.
I’ve been told that I’m difficult and I don’t really understand what that means so I asked someone I very briefly dated.
He said ‘yes. you are’
Fuckkkk it hurt so much. Like an icicle to the fucking heart. My insides churning. Tears instantly streaming down my face.
I’m difficult? How can this be? Who let it go on for this long?
How can this be how I’m seen? I see myself as honest and sometimes blunt. I speak the truth; my truth.
I want to be accepted the way I’d accept anyone else who is their true self.
I know I’m naive, gullible and get taken for granted but dammit I’m just ME.
Take it or leave it
Take it, please.
How can I tell someone I’m feeling blue and manic all at once without ruining their day worrying about me or have them walk on eggshells around me?
too broke to afford off my meds for a month now. or has it been two months? Any way, I have been on the brink of mania every day, then I teeter between self-loathing and something resembling positive self-esteem. It is never easy but it’s easy to distract myself with work or some made up drama that my mean mind likes to come up with to keep my brain sharp maybe? At work life is simple. There’s order, a flow that, no matter how mundane, makes time fly and I get a healthy dose of human interaction. But some mornings my face feels like it’s going to crack like porcelain. Split in half with all of these fake smiles. But it’s too easy to reduce it to just fake smiles. I feel manic wonderful most mornings. These are the days I love most. Where I am on top of the world and life is magic. Alas, today is not such a morning. But is it because of my lack of controlled substance or is it an outside force? Like others’ attitudes? Even now the point I was trying to eludes me. Hmm, I thought I was going somewhere with this. I will say that I am fortunate for those who stay by my side while I figure this all out. It’s so expensive going to a doctor and while I will go back, in the mean time I have to second guess everything. I don’t know if what I feel is valid or if it’s just in my head. I also have PMDD so everyday is a struggle…yay
You don’t love?
Are you blind?
I’m a star burning brilliantly after all
You don’t love me?
I’ve been here for you but I don’t matter now that new opportunities shine on your bleak horizon.
We don’t fit?
I am the missing jigsaw piece of your heart.
You love me?
But you want to leave when we could have it all.
I am desolate but always full of hope. I will be fine. You will always be a wanderer.
I write this with tears falling from my eyes. How cliché? I write this with clarity. Knowing full well that I am unloveable. I ruin all of my relationships. What am I afraid of? Or perhaps I’m just living proof that love is not real. It truly is a word soaked in honey to attract flies. I’m a fly in the spider’s den. I am alone. Only a drop of paint in the great mosaic of love’s canvas? Really? Is this it? I am never a great love only a footnote. A lesson learned by our great protagonist. Crying changes nothing. Another drop in the endless sea of sorrow, lost hope, depression. I thought I loved but it was only fancy. I thought I was adored but was only a receptacle for what was unwanted. I want to say that I will be strong and perhaps one day I could be. But right now? I drown. I drown and sink. I am through fighting.